Chapter 15 Robb

Robb

The conclusion of the war audience was important, but the celebration was even more crucial, and Stannis had been postponing it for over a week since ascending the throne. On that very night, a grand feast took place, with Lannister and Braavosi money providing abundant food, meat, and wine. Given the presence of half the lords of the Seven Kingdoms and several armies, opulence was necessary.

Robb, as one of the prominent lords present, had to show his support for the king by financing part of the feast. Edmure did the same on behalf of his lord father, and Roose Bolton, the new lord of the west, also contributed. The lords of the Stormlands, with scarce military merits, collaborated even more. As for the Vale and Dorne, although they were on their way, Stannis did not wait for them to celebrate his coronation.

In the grand celebration, Stannis introduced his queen, his daughter, and the red woman accompanying them. The new High Septon dared to complain that Stannis was not crowned by the faith, but he only gritted his teeth and reminded him to thank the faith of his lords in the Seven, for it was the faith of the Seven that crowned the queen Cersei's bastard son.

Since Joffrey, backed by the faith of the Seven, was unpopular in King's Landing and Stannis was considered his savior, the faith was in a poor position to complain. The previous death of the High Septon by the inhabitants of King's Landing, it was said, during the famine, left the faith unaccountable to Stannis.

At the banquet, Robb presented his wife, danced with the queen and her daughter, but he regained his sanity, and Stannis's lack of heirs did not go unnoticed. Shireen was fine for him, and to avoid future wars, he had to get rid of the restriction that only men could ascend the throne.

The problem with Shireen was not herself, as she was prudent and intelligent, but the mark of greyscale that deformed half of her face, considered by lords as a curse, regardless of their faith. Changing customs was feasible, but the situation with Shireen required care to stabilize Stannis's reign. Robb wished for a peaceful life away from political entanglements after retiring, enjoying well-earned glory and fame.

...

"What are you thinking, my lord?" asked Jeyne, who, after leaving the banquet, accompanied him to the tower assigned to him in the Red Keep. Jeyne stood by a window, illuminated by the moonlight, while Robb reflected, reading the book he would present to Stannis the next day.

Robb withdrew from the party when Stannis did at midnight, although the lords were still celebrating. He left his wife socializing with the court ladies. According to the three-eyed crow, he had already fulfilled his mission of begetting an heir, so he was on vacation in that aspect.

Now, seeing Jeyne without the hood she used to hide her youth, Robb realized that she wasn't even young; she was barely entering adolescence. How old could she be, twelve, thirteen? Robb wondered.

Robb had just turned sixteen. In his old world, no one would trust him with a pencil, but in this world, age mattered little, and for those involved in power games, they had to grow or die.

"Jeyne, what do you think of what the magic I possess has achieved so far?" Robb asked. Jeyne had been forced to abandon her innocence, just like himself, but she had no memories of another life to provide answers; she only had pain to guide her.

"Robb, there's more to you than magic," Jeyne said, looking at the book he held. Robb smiled.

"Yes, more than you imagine," Robb said.

"But you can't say it?" Jeyne asked, leaning against the window.

"I fear you wouldn't believe it," Robb said.

"There are already few things regarding magic that I can't believe," Jeyne said.

"And what if I told you I've seen the future, and thanks to that, we're both here in this moment?" Robb asked.

"That would be something I've already taken for granted," Jeyne said casually. "I would only ask, since when?" she added in a subdued tone.

"Beyond the death of your father but before the death of mine. I rode day by day, knowing I couldn't do anything to save him, and if I lost the war, we'd all follow him. Jeyne…" Robb couldn't say more; he just looked at his father's sword, Ice, which now lay on the fireplace warming the room.

"Is that why you haven't touched it?" Jeyne asked. "Do you think you're not worthy of it?" she inquired.

"I'm no longer the Robb I once was. Right now, I'm more like you. Honor is just a word that makes me feel angry. I look around, and I don't feel like myself. If he were here, would he still put that sword in my hands? Would he still consider me his son?

"Jeyne, you're the only person in this world to whom I've revealed how I feel and what I am now. Tell me, do you think my father would put that sword in my hands, knowing what I am now and everything I've done in this war?" Robb asked.

"Knowing everything that could happen, undoubtedly!" Jeyne declared. "Being the Lord Stark of the past, I suppose he would ask to legitimize Jon," Jeyne said with a smile. Against his will, Robb also laughed.

"Yes, I guess this world has changed a lot compared to our past in that little castle of illusions that didn't go beyond Winterfell. But winter has come," Robb said with regret.

"And the Winter Wolf with it," Jeyne said.

"Have you been reading about Cregan Stark and Roderick Dustin?" Robb asked. Jeyne nodded.

"I need to learn more than the elegant and honorable deeds that Maester Luwin taught us," Jeyne explained. "It was Great Jon who gave you that name. Do you think it was a coincidence? Or did the big guy curse you for trying to cut off his head?" she added.

Robb smiled and thought about it. The so-called Winter Wolves were the oldest combat veterans, sent to die in battle so that in their families' houses, there could be one more meal during winter, and the young ones who mattered could survive it. They once marched with Cregan Stark, under the command of Ser Roderick Dustin, in support of Queen Rhaenyra during the Targaryen civil war known as the Dance of Dragons, but Great Jon was not known for his historical knowledge, so he thought his apparent curse was just a coincidence.

It was more of a coincidence that he gave that nickname to him, who in his first life was an old, tired, and embittered elder whose only pastime was waiting for his death. "Destiny?" Robb wondered.

"Jeyne, once you've seen what you want to see, don't waste your life in this nest of vipers. Your father wouldn't have wanted that. Go back to the North. In honor of your father, Septa Mordane, and all who died alongside my father, I'll give you lands and a lordship. Give an inheritance to your family, as I will do with mine. Let's not let our victory turn into a glory of bitter agony and resentments," Robb proposed.

"I'll try to think about it later," Jeyne said reluctantly. "For you," she added. Robb smiled with regret.

One had to live a life of bitterness to have the wisdom to live a full youth; unfortunately, time was not reversed, and the path always led to the end, not to a beginning. Few people had the wisdom to see this, and in his first life, he was not one of them. Now he saw things differently, but for that life, it was already too late. He didn't want Jeyne, the person he identified with the most in this world after his rebirth, to make her youthful mistakes, but in the end, it was her decision, and he could only say a few words.

…

The grand feast lasted all night, and in the morning, as Robb suspected, Stannis called him to his office to discuss official matters.

Robb arrived with Stannis at sunrise, when the lords were just getting up from their tables at the feast. Two Kingsguard were already guarding the office door, and inside, Stannis was reviewing official documents with several lords who seemed somewhat subdued and sad, except for Davos, who had retired from the feast at midnight and appeared fresh and strong enough for a hard day's work.

Robb bowed upon arrival, along with Roose Bolton, the Blackfish, and Wylis Manderly. Stannis nodded and looked at his own lords.

"My lords, I have matters to discuss with Lord Stark; I will call you later," Stannis said to dismiss them. "Ser Onion, stay," he added for Davos.

Ser Davos, who was on his right as if he were a guard and not a lord, returned to his post, while the lords left, directing some grimaces at the knight, and Stannis ignored them, offering the empty seats to him and his lords.

Robb placed two thick gold-embossed books with a small lock on the cover on Stannis's table, then sat in the middle chair, with Roose and the Blackfish on his right, and Wylis Manderly on his left. Stannis looked at the pair of books, whose binding was the work of the craftsmen of Riverrun, the writing belonged to his maester, the drawings and plans to Lady Catelyn, and the content was his idea.

"Your Majesty, these books contain all the information I sold to Braavos and the Iron Bank to secure funds for this war, so that no one will die of hunger while the Riverlands recover, or here in King's Landing," Robb explained. Stannis nodded and looked at Lord Bolton and the rest.

"These lords already know part or all of my plans regarding these books, and if I haven't informed them of what they don't know, it's because it would be redundant since they are here at this moment," Robb said. "On the other hand, if other individuals learn about the contents of these books, outside of those we can trust or keep an eye on, all of us would suffer the consequences, losing hundreds of millions of gold dragons, economically speaking, and our lives if the weapon designs described in them fall into the hands of our enemies," Robb explained clearly, and Stannis frowned, but he wasn't one to make a scene, and Robb was already handing him the key to open the books and indicating which one to open to see the weapons, which was the same one with the steam engines.

Roose Bolton, Davos, and Ser Brynden approached to look alongside Stannis. Wylis Manderly was in charge of coordinating ship and weapon construction projects with the Braavosi, so he was already aware of everything in that book, like Robb, who was its intellectual author.

…

"Cannons, anti-personnel firearms, gunpowder, and industrial machinery, strange names," Stannis said, placing the book back on the table. The lords sat back down, and Ser Davos returned to Stannis's side.

"Ser Davos, I believe the future Hand of the King should forget the behavior of a knight and start behaving like the Hand of the King," Robb said, pointing to the empty chair next to Wylis Manderly. Ser Davos seemed uncomfortable.

"My lord, you have accumulated enough merit to take the position; no lord can dispute it," Stannis said coldly.

"I'd rather cut off my own testicles than be your Hand," Robb thought. In fact, anyone other than Davos would lose their head in that position in less than a year. Stannis was too strict. Only Davos, who was absolutely loyal to him and knew his personality to such an extent that he could influence his decisions, could be his Hand without losing his head. He also had the advantage of enjoying Stannis's trust.

"Your Majesty, I appreciate the gesture, but I am a terrible politician; negotiation is not my strength. I handle myself better among strict laws and rules. When faced with ideas different from what I believe to be right, I dismiss them with a snort, which usually ruins any negotiation," Robb explained honestly, and his three lords nodded to confirm it to Stannis.

Robb gave them a threatening look. He was telling the truth, but they didn't have to emphasize his flaws. Stannis nodded with a smile.

"It seems we are more alike than I thought initially," Stannis said. "Well then, Ser Davos Seaworth, from now on, I appoint you Hand of the King," Stannis decreed, and Davos knelt and accepted without making excuses or appearing grateful or humble. Then he sat in front of Stannis, next to them.

"Your Majesty, I must warn you that the nobles of this realm like to resort to assassination, and they will not hesitate to get rid of your Hand if it means they can rise to power they believe they deserve. Two Hands have already died, three if we count Tywin Lannister; one more won't be a big fuss, and before this becomes a tradition, it's better to take precautions, like assigning a personal guard to your Lord Hand and advising him to watch what he eats," Robb warned.

If Ser Davos were assassinated, they would have serious problems. Stannis gritted his teeth, and Davos seemed not to expect such danger. Robb had suspected it.

"Your Majesty, to maintain peace, I would also like to claim a seat on the Small Council as the Whisperer's adviser, although I will send someone to fulfill my presence on the Small Council. Nevertheless, the most delicate matters will be communicated to you or Ser Davos by letter," Robb explained. Stannis reflected for a few seconds.

"Yes, I don't think there's anyone more suitable for the position than you, but it seems you have more plans," the king said.

"I plan to make the North the main industrial power in this realm, and I will need a lot of free time for that. I also hope the Dornish refuse to obey, because I truly need that port. If they don't rebel, I'm afraid I must demand it, and Your Majesty should obtain it for me," Robb said sincerely. He planned to build a railway from the North to Dorne.

"Dorne owes allegiance to the realm, and you have enough merit. But I don't understand your intentions," Stannis said. "Your own coasts are closer to Braavos than the Dornish, and I won't allow my lords to trade with the slavers of those," he declared.

"I wouldn't agree with that either, because I consider slavery detrimental to industrial and social development. My plan is different.

"Dorne is the gateway to the summer sea, and in about five years, that will be one of the two most important commercial sea routes in the world because soon there will be a free city nearby, which will be free from slavery, and a revolution will begin there, in which we will be the biggest beneficiaries. The other will be from White Harbor to Braavos," Robb explained.

"My lord, if you don't stop making plans, you'll soon earn another nickname. I think they'll call you the Spider Wolf," Stannis said with a humor that was somewhat strange for him. Robb grimaced. "Also, it seems all your plans are dedicated to the economy," Stannis said.

"I have had more time than you and your lords to see the future, partly because my own inventions will lead to this future, and partly because I have had a whole year to think about it. First, how can Your Majesty keep the secret of the weapons within the realm? What measures will you take? And second, how will the paths of power be affected by making these decisions?

"Thinking about it, I have reached certain conclusions, and those conclusions led me to these decisions I am making to obtain the maximum benefits for my own territory while everyone else remains in ignorance, and none of them sees my actions as significant, which will lead them to ignore me until it is too late for them to do anything about it," Robb said. "Of course, Your Majesty, and the lords present here, upon hearing everything I've said, can also do the same and take their own advantages," he explained, Including them all in his conspiracy. Stannis frowned.

"Measures to protect firearms and cannons," Stannis reflected.

"The army couldn't be in the hands of the lords because the weapons would disappear, along with the plans. It couldn't be in the hands of the king either because we would have a civil war since the lords wouldn't want the king to wield such power against them at any time," Davos concluded. Robb nodded, as did Stannis and the other lords.

The lords of the Seven Kingdoms were their rulers in service to the king. They held the power of the armies in their hands, and to suddenly take that power away could only be done through war. Leaving an army in the hands of a king was also a bad idea because a tyrant could cause disaster.

"So the answer is evident; a third party must take charge of the army, and the lords and the king must reach an agreement to establish the conditions under which it can be mobilized," Roose Bolton said, arriving at the solution before everyone else. And thus, the first institution of the Seven Kingdoms, their armed forces, would be created. Robb nodded to indicate that he had come to the same conclusion.

"The commander of the army, as it is now, will be the king; however, he cannot dispose of it at will, leaving this army out of the paths of power. And what follows military power is economic power. That means that land, resources, production, and the development of technologies will define the power of a territory.

"If they cannot produce certain things and have nothing that other territories want to trade for, they will have to suffer significant losses to obtain it. Therefore, soon, great houses will start to fall, and to get ahead of this, Your Majesty must prevent them from resorting to political power to exert unjust pressure on those who claim their debts, establishing laws for the government and administration of territories," Robb explained.

"Your inventions are going to make us work to death," Stannis rebuked.

"It's the price of war, Majesty. I had my hands tied. However, once these laws are implemented, civil wars will cease, and the kingdom will develop in a long period of peace," Robb explained. Stannis did not seem pleased.

"My brother just had to sit and swallow, but I will die from overworking," Stannis complained.

"Majesty, I also have a solution to that problem, but you will have to yield much of your power as king and create institutions like the army to take care of the administration of the realm.

"I have called them ministries, and they can take care of the economy, education, social matters, development, planning, and even justice," Robb explained. Stannis frowned again.

"And what would my job be?" Stannis asked.

"Cutting heads when things go wrong, overseeing, demanding explanations, listening to proposals, and so on. I recommend that you create a council of lords to help you with input," Robb explained.

"That seems acceptable. Do you have details on the operation of these 'institutions,' or have you thought of something else?" Stannis asked.

Robb smiled, and they spent the whole day creating prototypes of laws and operational structures for his proposals, with no more breaks than their scheduled meals.

…

The next day, Stannis called him again, and this time he had five maesters to take notes and create documents. Robb made no excuses and spent an entire week assisting in the creation of the new administrative system of the realm.

Thus, the first authority would be the law, then the king, followed by the privy council, and beneath this, all the institutions, which would be called ministries. Next would be a council of nobles that would report to the king on the needs of each territory, as well as requests and projects that could benefit the realm or its territories.

This council would have no administrative authority and could not summon the king at will; they would be granted an audience only once a month, and their time was limited, so they would have to determine which of their projects were most important and come to an agreement on them. If not, and if the rulers felt that the council ignored them and neglected the benefit of the realm, they could appeal to the king, and if he agreed with them, the council of lords could be reformed.

In theory, this council of nobles had no real authority, but it would generate ideas for the development and administration of the realm, making it one of the most important institutions.

…

A week passed as they waited for the rest of the lords and discussed laws and amendments, and only after finishing everything, Stannis called him to his personal chamber for a private conversation.

Upon arrival, Robb saw Stannis seated in a chair with the Red Woman to the left and his Hand, Davos, to his right. In front of him were the letters that Robb had sent him by raven.

"I believe we must now discuss the scope of the magic you've been using," Stannis said.

Melisandre, a striking redhead, and, according to a reliable source of Robb's, wearing nothing underneath her silk dress, did not seem surprised. Davos, on the other hand, showed surprise, leading Robb to assume that Melisandre had spoken to Stannis about his magic.

Robb bowed to greet them, acknowledging that it was time to address this conversation. Since Stannis brought his somewhat untrustworthy witch, Robb brought his somewhat untrustworthy Three-Eyed Crow, which now rested on his shoulder. He didn't bring Ice, as weapons couldn't enter the king's chambers.

"The scope of my magic is less than what your priestess can do but much more in terms of seeing things. Still, I am not defenseless," Robb warned, looking at Melisandre.

"Does anyone else possess this magic? Or should I thank you for all the letters that crashed into my face and that of my Hand?" Stannis asked, gritting his teeth. Robb could do nothing but blink and remain stunned.

"What?" Robb asked, looking as bewildered as he felt.

…

"Brandon Stark!" Robb shouted angrily upon returning to his room, addressing the crow that served as his personal communicator.

Roslin, who had gone out to greet him, jumped, but she realized he wasn't yelling at her, but at the crow perched on a chair beside the fireplace in the room, watching him enter. The little scoundrel was there, but he didn't flinch at his anger, just looked at him innocently from the other side, in his room in Winterfell, where he was munching on cookies.

"It was just a joke; you should have seen how he gritted his teeth," Bran said with amusement. He simply wasn't afraid of death.

"Bran, it's over! You're grounded, and this time, no matter how many puppy eyes you make, this is serious. Be thankful I'm not there, or you'd get the first beating of your life," scolded Robb in anger, but Bran just sighed and shrugged.

"Well," Bran said with regret, "I guess I'll have to be good from now on," he said and looked at Hodor, "Hodor, fetch paper and pencil; I'll write to Mother to confess that Arya and Sansa are with the dragon queen. I also have to tell her about Jeyne, magic, the war…"

"Hodor, don't give him the paper!" Robb shouted, transitioning from anger to nervousness and disbelief as he saw this little scoundrel daring to blackmail him, of all people, whom the entire kingdom stepped aside to let pass. Unfortunately, Hodor couldn't hear him, and the paper reached Bran, who began to write.

NA 1: Hello, everyone, this is the shortest chapter so far, but what's coming up is more politics, and I don't want to overwhelm you, so we'll continue with the changes in King's Landing and the arrival of the Vale, the Reach, and Dorne in the next chapter. I've included a brief explanation of the nickname "Winter Wolf" for the MC and the reason I, as the author, had for it. This is for those wondering where I got it from. I thought it would suit him well due to that bitter and old half that is now part of Robb Stark.

NA 2: Almost a year has passed since Robb was reborn, and now his knowledge has a structural foundation that can be used at a state level without the risk of falling into the wrong hands. I'm sorry for those who wanted to see cannons in the War for the Iron Throne, but if there's one thing I don't like, it's self-inserts where the MC makes cannons, and then everyone has cannons, and these weapons, instead of helping, only complicate the MC's existence to the point that achieving their goals would have been a thousand times easier without them. I consider it artificial difficulty. Robb already has enough advantages with Bran's magic and his own. As you've seen so far, the situation has never gotten out of hand. Now, when he can truly reap great gains from his knowledge, is when he will use it. We'll see more of this in later chapters.

NA 3: Of course, Bran already knows too many secrets about Robb for him to rein him in. Bran is no longer a child who can be yelled at loudly and scared; he has spent a whole year looking at the sneakiest and most treacherous snakes in the realm and has learned the hard way how to get his way. And with Robb, he doesn't have to try too hard because he knows all his weak points.